#Tim literally dngaf and is waiting for the bats to play catch up

[deadsetobsessions]

A click. The closing and opening of a camera shutter. The whirr of film as it slides across the inner workings of his camera.

Timothy Drake heaved himself off of the concrete roof as soon as the vigilantes left his eyesight. He swaps the film roll, placing the used one inside of the tin with a barely restrained grin. He’d gotten good shots tonight- a confrontation with Harvey Dent, batarangs swooping to cut the new Robin free- and Tim was excited to race back to his dark room in order to develop those candids.

He climbs down the side of the building, the spelunking gear he’d splurged his parents’ money on working wonderfully on Gotham’s stone and concrete buildings.

“Mom, I want to be just like you guys!” He’d said, and his mom agreed to spare no expense for his new hobby. Well, their secretary did, with his parent’s disinterested permission. After all, spelunking is sometimes needed for artifact digs… probably.

Besides, the moment he had brought up Bruce Wayne’s propensity for “spelunking,” his father had immediately sent him more cave scaling stuff in order to “network with the other successful businessmen, Timmy!”

Tim slides away from the alley with full awareness. Even in Bristol, one had to be careful to avoid the multitudes of goons out and about. The Narrows are definitely worse than Bristol and Tim wasn’t about to let his hard work be taken away just like that. As he trudged home- taking a taxi once he was in a slightly more “trustworthy area”- Tim became slightly lost in his thoughts about the identities of Gotham’s vigilantes. Technically there’s only two.

Tim knows there’s three.

Batman.

Robin.

Nightwing.

Bruce Wayne.

Jason Todd.

Dick Grayson.

His sharp mind, now assuaged from the mystery of their identities, worked hard to match the fights he witnessed to the injuries the prolific Wayne family hid the next day.

Timothy Drake thinks he’ll never get bored following his vigilantes.

——

He’s bored. He’s so irrevocably, irredeemably bored.

Tim had been so excited to go, too! Perhaps for different reasons than everyone else because he was here to observe his heroes out of their masks, not for the Annual Wayne Gala that’s the end-all of high society life. As in, if you weren’t invited, that’s the end of your social life. Bruce Wayne held high society in his palms and Tim is only fifty percent sure he knew and/or cared. Regardless, he was prepared to be a pod-son to his parents’ fake good-parents act, and accordingly suffered thirty minutes of cheek-pinching and fake laughs just for the opportunity to see the three Bats in one place.

They’re not here. They won’t be here for another twenty minutes.

Anyways, he’s bored and irritated. Definitely annoyed enough for some bad ideas.

And Tim might not be aware of this fact about himself until much later when he’s more self-aware, but a bored and irritated Tim Drake is bad news for everyone.

He takes after Janet Drake, after all, and Janet Drake is only after Bruce Wayne in influence and cunning.

And his heroes, his beloved heroes, are the targets of his ire tonight. Tim smiles wider, pod-person smile widening to a baring of ravenous teeth incredibly off putting on a nine year old, and immediately changes course towards the delicate jello squares sitting at the buffet table.

The Waynes will be learning the importance of punctuality at their own galas by the time Tim’s done. He swears it. He even has a get out of jail free card!

Just. A small bit of petty revenge.

Tim nabs a bowl full of the jellos, snacking on one as he makes his way to the Wayne family’s most favorite balcony. Everyone knows it’s the one the family members go to when the Gala gets overwhelming. It’s an unspoken rule that no one else may enter it. Tim slips around the blind spots in the cameras.

High society might call someone a bitch in forty different ways, all hidden behind silk smiles and false eyes, but they’d respect the oddest things.

Tim… doesn’t care. He’s been breaking rules since he was seven.

He sets to his task, setting the jello cubes in the places he’d calculated that Jason or Bruce or Dick might step on. Mild revenge, yes, but Tim doesn’t want to bother Alfred too much. The butler had looked a bit tired earlier. Task done, Tim squeezes back into the party and smiles like his life depended on it.

“Brucie!” His dad boomed, and Tim felt his smile widen once more.

“Jack!” Batman’s Brucie personality bounced into the ballroom as the party kicked back up with the host’s presence. “How’ve you been, old chap?”

“The digs have been very fruitful!”

“I see you’ve brought someone with you today! Well, other than your strikingly beautiful wife, of course!”

“This is my son, Timothy!”

“Hello, Timothy. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Oh. My. God. He’s shaking hands with Batman!

“Hi. I’m Timothy Drake.”

“Oh my gosh, Tim!” His mom laughs, fake nails and laugh digging into his shoulders. Oops. Too informal.

“It’s alright.”

“BRUCE!”

Oh my god, it’s ROBIN. Tim’s smile twitches, barely containing his squeals.

“Jaylad? What’s wrong?”

“Someone left jello cubes all over the balcony!”

“What?” Bruce (Brucie, Tim decides is the name of the mask) turns to his parents and excuses himself.

“Mom? I’m going to go network with Bruce Wayne’s son.”

No, he’s not. He’s gonna go watch them lose their minds.

“That’s my boy!” His dad claps him on the shoulder and shoos him off. His mom narrowing her eyes at him but ultimately dismissing him.

Perfect. By the time he gets there, he hears Nightwing- Dick Grayson, oh my god!- asking “O” to figure out who left all those cubes on the floor.

“Drake?” Ah, shit.

“Weren’t we just talking to him earlier, B?”

“Yes, but I haven’t got the slightest idea why he’d leave jello cubes all over the place.”

“Assassination attempt?” Jason asks.

“Whatever it is, it ruined my running shoes!”

“Dick, please, just wash it off or give it to Alfred.”

“Ugh, we can just go ask him.”

“And make a scene?” Jason sounds eager.

“No. Alfred ordered us specifically not to.”

Silence. Tim grins and slips away, making his way through and voiding the cameras as usual.

—-

“Timmy!”

Tim smiles politely at Brucie Wayne while inwardly cheering. His dad looks at him with stars in his eyes and leaves him to work his magic.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” Pod-person smile!

“This is my son, Jason. And this is Dick.”

“Hi. I’m Jason!” He holds out a hand for Tim to shake. Dick smiles at him and Tim thinks he might expire on the Wayne’s ballroom floor.

“Hello,” Tim suppresses his urge to scream excitedly. “I’m Timothy Drake. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Woah, you sound so stiff.”

“Jason!” Brucie Wayne chides. “Anyways, Timmy, you looked like you had something to tell me earlier. Something wrong, kiddo?”

No, no he didn’t. But… they don’t know that he knows their secret. And they don’t know he knows that they don’t know.

Tim acts confused, but then clears up with his expression like he just thought of something.

“Oh! I was wondering why you were late, Mr. Wayne. Did Batman stop you on the way back?”

“Huh?”

“Oh, I know you don’t really like Batman, Mr. Wayne,” Tim cackles inwardly. “But he saves you a lot. Were you stopping crime?”

“I… I’m not Batman.”

“Well, I know that,” Tim huffs. “It’s just weird no one’s seen you and Batman in the same room.” Tim cheerfully ignores the alarm making its way onto the trio’s faces and his dad’s frantic, further away, cut it out motion. “But obviously that’s because Batman’s busy putting on his gear, right?”

“And how do you figure that…?” Dick asks, tense.

“Uh, he always knows when you’re in trouble? He always comes in minutes of you guys getting held hostage. Is his base on the manor grounds? Oh, is it a secret that you’re funding him? Don’t worry! I know how to keep a secret! Can you tell the new Robin that I think he’s the best?” Tim grins cutely up at Batman. Ah, he means Brucie Wayne.

“Sure can, kiddo! Don’t tell anyone else, okay?” Jason swoops in, grinning back Tim.

Eeee!

As he nods, Tim can’t help mentioning the cubes. “Oh, sorry about the cubes! I thought I’d be able to track them with their shoe print if Batman and Robin came to save you guys but I guess that wasn’t going to happen. I’m really sorry!” He uses the “cute duckling” face and Dick visibly melts.

“No problem, Timmy! You should come over to play Clue with us sometime! I think you’d be good at it.”

“Oh! Really?” His words becomes a bit more genuine. “I’ve never played it. My mom and dad aren’t around much so. Um. Would it be okay if we do?”

“This weekend.” Brucie Wayne’s voice suddenly became more firm. “I’ll talk to your parents about it.

—-

As Tim waves the Wayne’s goodbye, he hears from Dick, “You only like him because he said you’re the best.”

And Jason’s reply, “Because he’s got good taste,” made the rest of his night. Not week, because tomorrow, he gets to poke around Wayne manor again!